


there is a dark within and without (and there is a light — don't let it go out.)

by serenitysea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, Angst, F/M, Gen, but i think you'll be okay at the end, heavy season two speculation, not your average lovestory, the you can't lie to your PERSON trope, these feels are nothing we were ever trained for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 02:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2293127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>aka: five times skye and ward tried to lie to each other and failed miserably & the one time they didn't have to.</p><p>(because did you ever notice how they have this habit of not really asking questions and just stating facts?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	there is a dark within and without (and there is a light — don't let it go out.)

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO. i don't know if i should attach a warning to this - because there could be POSSIBLE dubious consent in the way that they are basically FORCED to tell each other the truth. there is a scene later on where another character uses this AGAINST them (because of reasons) but no one gets hurt or is forced to reveal anything that damages their self worth. i just want to throw that out there. 
> 
> this was originally inspired by someone's post on tumblr where i read something like 'the one where you CANNOT LIE to your soulmate.' i am lazy and did not write them as soulmates... but i did make it so they can't lie to each other. WHICH IS FUN. 
> 
> spoilers for a bunch of scenes in 1.19, mostly and S2 speculation.

They don't tell anyone.  
  
*  
  
They don't tell anyone because it would be _complete and utter_ destruction.  
  
So they don't tell anyone.  
  
*  
  
(Somehow, people find out anyway.)

* * *

  
It's not like it's a big deal.  
  
There's just this thing that happens one day.  
  
Skye is working on something that looks suspiciously like hieroglyphics while the rest of the team is sifting through wreckage from the disaster of the week. She touches the barely-raised etchings and shivers at the chill that seems to echo from the rough texture under her fingertips.  
  
With the kind of awareness that is more than a little startling, Ward is at her side almost instantly. "What's wrong?"  
  
It's on the tip of her tongue to brush him off (literally, she can _feel_ the words forming and opens her mouth) and instead admits, "I touched this weird stone and it freaked me out. Got the chills and everything."  
  
He kneels down beside her and frowns. "You should be wearing gloves."  
  
"Can we _not_ berate my lack of protective gear for, like, a second and focus on the weird vibes this thing is giving off?" Even _she_ is a little taken aback by the vehemence in her tone and attempts to soften it by grinning sheepishly.  
  
It seems to appease Ward, because he yells for FitzSimmons to take an in depth look. The impatient demand has Simmons packing up her kit hastily while Fitz nearly bum-rushes Ward to the ground to try and get a closer look.  
  
Ward has the reflexes of a damn ninja though, so he is able to flatten a hand down to shift his balance and remain upright.  
  
Skye _swears_ she can feel the quake through her bones when his hand makes direct contact on the stone.  
  
(She doesn't say anything but the raised eyebrows she gives him for his _lack of gloves_ convey more than words ever could.)  
  
*  
  
(As it turns out:)  
  
  
They can't lie to each other.  
  
Something happened when they each touched the tombstone and now they are _physically incapable_ of not telling the truth.

It turns out to be a total catastrophe.  
  
*  
  
They later discover — through training in the cargo hold, mission downtime, all those hours spent recovering in a med bay — the loophole.  
  
If a question is not asked directly, the answer doesn't come _ripping_ from their throats.  
  
Forewarned is forearmed and all that.  
  
(It doesn't always work.)  
  
So now there is level of respect for the other person that begins to coat every verbal interaction they have. A kind of inbred courtesy that is learned out of necessity rather than environment.  
  
When questions turn into demands one hundred percent of the time — they are forced to learn how to rephrase requests into statements.  
  
(There is something to be said for free will, after all.)

* * *

  
The kiss is mind-blowing and her heart is filled to bursting — she didn't have to ask him _anything_ he told her because he _wanted_ to and that makes all the difference in the world.  
  
She runs a hand up to cradle his face more fully and pauses when she feels the blood. Something doesn't add up. There is a sinking feeling in her stomach that slowly begins to intensify to a black hole as he stands up immediately and begins backing out of the room.  
  
Ward brushes off her concern and scrambles away before she can ask any questions. She would be more hurt by it except it's clearly something he doesn't want to discuss.  
  
And he definitely doesn't want her to ask him how it happened.  
  
…Which means he's hiding _something_.  
  
(Dammit.)  
  
Maybe Koenig will have some answers.  
  
*  
  
"Why'd you leave?"  
  
(And now that she _knows_ , she can see it; the calculating look as he scrolls through options and escape routes, how to spin any possible story she gives him, the way he tucks away his feelings for another time —)  
  
"Truth?"  
  
"I'd appreciate it." And still, after everything she's learned — _after her heart is reeling and scattered into shards on the floor_ — he is still holding up his end of their unspoken bargain. ( ** _Never ask outright_**.)  
  
So she tells him. (Because she _can't not_.)  
  
"You scared me." It is the bleeding _truth_. She is so freaking scared she can hardly see straight.  
  
He frowns apologetically. "I didn't mean to scare you."  
  
"I don't… exactly overanalyze, I just act impulsively and then I freak out after the fact." Truth. Truth. _Truth_. (Why can't he tell she's _bleeding_ it clean through?)  
  
"Are you still?"  
  
A direct question requires an honest and direct answer.  
  
She shakes her head and pours everything she has —  
  
  
  
( _there will come a day when you have to commit to this or bail_ )  
  
( _i am trying to protect you_ )  
  
( _yes, you **are**_.)  
  
   
  
— into kissing him.  
  
There are no words this time.  
  
  
( _Why_ does it feel like she is saying goodbye?)  
  
  
*  
  
"And you? What do you want?"  
  
(Because dammit, she will get a straight answer out of him for once in their lives if it _kills_ them both — and it just might — this is not the kind of thing you ask when there are dead bodies and guns laying hidden like secrets of a war you never intended to fight.)  
  
"What I want is to stay here with you and imagine the world outside doesn't exist."  
  
(He'll never know how much it breaks her heart to hear him say those words. How it cuts to jagged bits the remnants that survived the initial betrayal, curled up on the floor with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company as the entire world came crashing down on top of her. How it _kills_ to hear him admit the truth — because if nothing else _this is the truth_ , he _**cannot lie**_ , not about this — how he feels despite being the traitor to everything they'd ever stood for.)  
  
In this moment, everything hangs in the balance.  
  
He can change in this moment.  
  
He can offer the real truth, they can recover from this, maybe there is some way to make it right —  
  
"I just got word from Fitz. They need our help. Bus is fueled up, ready to go."  
  
And her heart (because _that_ traitorous thing is apparently still beating, who knew?) breaks again.  
  
He is really going to do this.  
  
She is speechless with shock and regret. The questions (all the direct questions that would both force the truth and tip him off) are on the tip of her tongue and she can't — she can't get them out. She can't _face this_ just yet.  
  
When Ward interlocks their fingers and leads the way to the Bus, Skye is reeling. She can't ask questions (because he'll _know_ ) and she can't afford _not_ to.  
  
This is the definition of an impossible situation.  


* * *

 

(If someone has a broken larynx you don't have to feel guilty for not asking questions they would ordinarily be forced to answer.)

(This is the kind of thinking that gets Skye through the first two months.)

(Halfway during the third month, she cracks.)

(Does she _ever_.)

* * *

 

"You need to _leave_ ," Skye's angry voice carries through the hall with ease and he's nearly broken into a run when the agent assigned to Ward's cell comes stumbling out with what appears to be a rapidly purpling bruise to his jaw.  
  
Coulson swears under his breath and pushes into the room. He rapidly takes in the situation; Skye's stubborn determination that she can get answers from Ward but her refusal to do so with any kind of supervision, the miserable (and slightly out of place) expression on Ward's face.    
  
"Skye, what the hell is going on?" When Skye refuses to answer or apologize for her actions, Coulson turns on Ward and raises his eyebrows in silent demand.  
  
"She did politely ask him to leave the first few times," Ward casts a pained look at her, clearly not wanting to reveal anything.  
  
"This is ridiculous." Coulson intercepts the look and redirects his attention to Skye. "What is it that you think Ward isn't telling us? Why did you send the guard away?"  
  
She moves her shoulders restlessly, not exactly meeting his eyes. "I don't know. Could be anything. I'll need a few more minutes while the video feeds are cut. You'll want to step out."  
  
"No," Coulson shakes his head. "This time, you'll ask him while I'm supervising."  
  
Skye closes her eyes in defeat. Ward is gritting his teeth in the first show of frustration anyone has seen in months.  
  
Though she is shaking faintly — and Ward is looking at her with an unavoidable plea in his eyes — she asks with resignation, "What aren't you telling us, Ward?"  
  
Ward drops his head in defeat, unable to give Coulson the satisfaction of looking at him when he softly replies, "We can't lie to each other."  
  
  
(And _**boom**_ _goes the dynamite_.)  
  
  
*

(' _If you can't channel that frustration into something that can be controlled, you'll be dead_.')

*

  
"I have had it with your inability to function as a member of this team. Your reckless attitude is going to get you killed." Coulson is exasperated and she can't exactly deny his claims. "What is going _on_ , Skye?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Coulson folds his arms and takes in her restless body language. "You're lying."  
  
(It sounds more like a threat than an accusation. And that makes it very, very dangerous.)  
  
Skye forces herself to remain absolutely still. "No."  
  
"I _don't believe_ you." He takes her by the shoulders and begins marching her out the door. "Let's go. We are not going to play another round of pretending like everything is okay while I sit on comms and listen as you nearly take a bullet to the head."  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just —" It finally occurs to her to watch where they are going and she sees the door to Ward's cell with a dawning horror. "AC. Please don't do this —"  
  
"You haven't left me a choice, Skye," he replies, gently pushing her through the door.  
  
Ward looks up as the enter the cell and takes in Skye's anxious, twitchy demeanor and the determination radiating from Coulson with a practiced glance. He knows this is not going to end well.  
  
"We have a bit of a problem here." Coulson perches on the table and glances once at Skye, who pretends to find the floor incredibly fascinating. "I have a hunch that Skye is lying to me."  
  
"I'm _not lying_ ," She forcefully insists, rolling her eyes and folding her arms. With the wall at her back and the guard at the door, she has nowhere to go and it shows as she struggles to remain calm and still.  
  
"I've been trying to figure out what's going on but she refuses to tell me."  
  
Ward splits his concentration between the hell-bent new director and the girl whose heart he can make sing back to him.  
  
"Ask her, Ward."  
  
Ward glances at Skye's ghostly pale face and grits his teeth in frustration. "Sir, I'd prefer not —"  
  
"Do you think I give a _damn_ what you _prefer_?" Coulson no longer cares about collateral damage. He wants answers. " _Ask_ her. **_Now_**."  
  
It should be impossible; the jailed captive asking questions of the (somewhat) free agent.

  
  
(There was a time they all remember when the roles had not been that different, though it feels like a century ago.)

  
  
Skye looks mad enough to spit tacks but cannot drag her gaze away from Ward, who looks at her with apology loud and clear in his eyes but dutifully asks, "What's going on?"  
  
"I _hate_ you for this." She glares hard at them and it is unclear as to who she is more furious at in the moment. It doesn't look good for either of them. "My conduct in the field is the _least_ of your worries. We're _imploding_ ," Skye throws her tablet on the table angrily. "See for yourself."  
  
The schematics are easy enough to read and follow; Hydra has once again infiltrated their ranks. (Cut off one head, two more will take its place.) There is an low string of curses from the Director and he leaves the room quickly, presumably calling May to assist in the inevitable cleanup.  
  
"Skye —"  
  
She raises a hand and sinks to the ground slowly. "Don't. It wasn't like you had a choice."  
  
(They both pretend to ignore the raw scabs on her knuckles and the way the blood drips sluggishly as she swings at the wall in anger.)  
  
Only once the blood has coated the backs of her hands entirely, does she turn back to him. "It wasn't like you _ever_ had a choice."  
  
*  
  
Coulson keeps his word and doesn't tell the rest of the team.  
  
There are times when Ward is convinced that May knows about their secret but she never asks Skye to act as a go-between for her and is in fact, somewhat relentless in coming to see him personally about any questions she has.  
  
(It's probably because of that fact that Ward knows Coulson told May about it.)  
  
They tend to keep to themselves because it easier to protect each other that way.  
  
(People stare and whisper and spread rumors. It doesn't matter.)  
  
*  
  
It is a long time before she can trust Coulson not to use Ward against her.  
  
( _Longer_ for Ward to forgive Coulson for using her against him.)  
  
But then, theirs is a business built on bloodshed and secrets and they simply don't have the luxury of being at odds forever.  
  
Eventually, he is free of his godforsaken cell and working to protect the team again.  
  
Eventually, she learns to open up to the people she once called her family and trust them (slowly) again.

*

She turns to him in the middle of what is an otherwise ordinary day with a question in her eyes.

"Yes." Ward smiles affectionately, eyes soft with emotion. "You don't even have to ask."

Skye fits herself into his arms and closes her eyes contentedly. "Me too."

 

* * *

  
| _there is a kiss i stole from your mouth — and there is a light don't let go out._ |

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from u2's _song for someone_. (which is amazing, btw. STRONGLY recommended for skyeward feels along with several others on the new album.)
> 
> i actually couldn't do all the scenes of them where you get the emotional payoff of the direct question/answer thing. i think it's actually kind of interesting how they don't ask each other that many direct questions and just make statements. when they do... i think it's pretty interesting to imagine this kind of scenario.


End file.
